


Eyes on the Prize

by estike



Series: But Not Too Late [2]
Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25197469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estike/pseuds/estike
Summary: After their heart-to-heart with Beatrice, Ava begins to think and figure out what she truly wants - and how she is going to get it before they leave for the Vatican. Sharing a few moments alone with Beatrice might just be the push she needed to concentrate on achieving the desired result.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Series: But Not Too Late [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844341
Comments: 32
Kudos: 529





	Eyes on the Prize

**Author's Note:**

> If you have read Later Than You Think, I intended this as a sort of a continuation for that story, but it can be understood without having read that story as well.

Ava could be a bit of a dick at times, but she didn't mean to. She liked to believe, because she had no other choice, that there was that special brand of insensitivity in people that others found charming enough to keep up with. You know, like in TV shows — her major and only available source on real life in the past twelve years.

We all like a good insensitive bastard. Don't even try to deny that.

Not that she'd be striving for the title but one has to survive on something when she'd been living in solitude and misery for almost her whole life and black humour proved to be an incredibly powerful fuel if life.  


Anyway, believe it or not: Ava was trying.

At least nobody expected her to trust a bunch of strange nuns right after one attempted and succeeded in murdering her. (She'd love to say assassinated but you had to be considered important for that. Ava was used to being declared a burden to anyone who even had to talk to her.) It does something to a girl.

Especially when her pious murderer was one of the handful of people who ever interacted with her in the past few years of her short life. If God or any of his devout followers had any problem with Ava's failure at connecting with them, they really should take it up with the culprit. All she was saying is that she could have ended up much, much worse.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice; you’re probably a nun.

Let us not talk about the fact that she then came back to life, murdered her own murderer in some sort of a mindless frenzy — she was far from ready to properly talk about that. Bottling everything up until the feelings threaten with pouring out of you uncontrollably is also kind of what makes a badass, isn’t it? One can only make a joke out of everything until she finds herself sobbing in a stranger’s arms.

Then one can only spend so much time with this stranger that she’d end up in her arms over and over and over again. At first, everything may seem to happen only by accident, but only because you are not perceptive enough to recognize the pattern. Then, you seem to crack the code (or at least parts of it) and think… _Fuck_! Very succinctly, but with a lot of emotion.

Ava was not not-smart, but she definitely wasn't feelings-smart. She didn't have a lot of hands-on experience when it came to real life, you see. For one, she believed that she recognized contempt and hellishness in a nun pretty well but the rest of it could become kind of a big question mark. Stabbing in the dark.

Would she have acted any differently if she could recognize what the story of Sister Melanie meant to Beatrice? Perhaps. Surely, she would have tried to avoid one pitfall and not to be a dick — but then she has this gift of annoying Beatrice even without trying.

When she dreamt of dying, she'd always come to herself with her eyes wide open to the ceiling of their grey orphanage dorm, disoriented and disappointed. When she truly died, she came back to life with her eyes wide open to the world. Staring at all of it without truly understanding. Discombobulated.  


Looking back, it almost felt obvious. But in the thick of it, Ava was blind. 

Too preoccupied with whatever JC meant to her, she forgot there was much more in the world waiting only for her — she only hadn’t had the opportunity to discover everything. What did Mary say about love and hormones again? Maybe she was onto something after all.

Beatrice’s voice echoed in her ear long after she first heard them as she tasted them in her mouth over and over again, letting the words hit her with a sharp realization. 

“I became skilled at so many things, just so I would still have value. Despite my flaws, or what I’d been taught was a flaw.” 

The more she thought about it, the clearer it was. Their fears were so similar in a way, touching at the point where they were afraid that being themselves in itself wouldn’t be enough. Who would want to put up with a quadriplegic when her Halo is gone and she’s bed-ridden and vulnerable? Based on previous experience, definitely not nuns. 

But how can I make a joke out of this? Something in Ava kept thinking, in an attempt to distract herself from the reality of her fears. At times it worked. And at other times, it only made things worse: made her feel farther away from the whole world.  


And she was used to being far from the world, locked up. Stagnant, and alone. 

When she realized that Beatrice was caught up in her own head, seeking to fulfil expectations that can never be fulfilled, that is when she realized the deeply rooted attraction that pulled the two of them towards one another from the very beginning. 

There was a reason she approached Beatrice of all people at Cat’s Cradle first. Was it all pre-determined, after all? Will Ava need to reconsider everything she believed in based on the past few weeks she just left behind? 

She had to do something about this. Make a step forward, ascertain that what she believed was true. But she wasn’t sure what exact way she could go about it. Do you just kick the door in upon arrival? 

If anything, she knew two things. One, time was scarce. Two, there was something in Beatrice that played with her heartstrings. Different from JC, yet all so similar. (Strangely enough, it was much easier to stay focused when Beatrice was speaking — maybe spacing out when your crush was talking wasn’t really a positive sign, after all.) 

Some things demanded seriousness but these were the exact things that were so hard to approach with a straight face. 

“Do I get a badass outfit too or will I have to be the only one who breaks into the Vatican in some dirty T-shirt that was handed down to me at a random church?” Ava decided to ask, to keep herself on brand. 

She expected to be scolded but Beatrice welcomed the question. When the rays of the sun directly reached her face, her eyes turned golden brown, illuminated by the light. 

“We can get you a habit.” The corners of her mouth turned upwards, although she probably tried to suppress the smile. “With a surprise underneath.” 

“ _ Oooh _ ,” Ava answered, her eyebrows arching. “Are we in for a big surprise? Anything sacrilegious in mind?”

“You will see shortly,” Beatrice told her, giving her nothing to work with.

So, Ava had to keep pressing it to find out anything. “Just tell me. Am I going to look nun-tastic?”

“What you are is nun-believable,” Beatrice chose to say, deciding to play along. Her smile still hadn’t disappeared. In fact, it only grew wider.  


For one, she really wanted to see what outfit they would end up putting on her now. Anything below entirely badass would probably leave her a little dissatisfied. But more importantly, now that she saw Beatrice smile in this carefree and cheerful manner once, she wanted to make her continue. Possibly forever. 

How could she make Beatrice smile again?

When she was around JC she’d often feel on guard. As if she felt that she could be left at the very moment that she said something that the boy did not necessarily like. Ava would forget to speak sometimes. Was that just like her? Was it unlike her? She never really had any past experience to figure it out.  


With Beatrice, it was not even a choice. Opening up to her in ways that she hadn’t done before with anyone came almost naturally. And in return, Beatrice began to open up as well — making sure that Ava knew that this was something special. How special though? Enough to kiss you special? Or just the regular, friendly special.  


“Can I get a sneak peek?” Ava asked. 

“No puns this time?” 

“Couldn’t come up with any right now.” 

Beatrice told her to wait there for a moment and disappeared for a while, only for Ava to be left alone with her thoughts. The same questions she’d been through once, all over again. 

Did Beatrice like her? It was one thing that she sometimes held her in her strong arms and cupped her face until she came to herself again, but when it came to JC too, they had to be actively making out for Ava to fully be sure that he liked her to begin with. 

Could she count on Beatrice suddenly making out with her, out of the blue? She was a nun, after all. Or was she supposed to be the big girl for once and see where her chances took her? No matter where Ava looked at it from, not knowing what the other thought only made things more difficult. But she wasn’t left much time to think, as Beatrice soon entered the room again, carrying something with her. 

“Maybe I should have waited with the reveal. This is just half of it,” Beatrice told her. 

“Woah,” Ava commented, almost involuntarily when she saw all the black leather and the chainmail in the outfit she was shown. “I can agree with that.” 

Maybe this was the style she was supposed to have all her life, no scarves tied into her hair, no lipstick. In this outfit, she wouldn't just look like any chic girl next door, but an actual superhero stepping right out from a cheesy comic book.  


Or, maybe not. Maybe this is really not the style for her. For a moment, she became more serious than usual.  


“Did this use to belong to… her?” Shannon, that is.

“No. This one is yours.”

Ava kept staring at the clothes. “I don’t think I should ask how you guys already have an outfit ready for me specifically."  


She was trying to figure out how the whole thing would look on her. Very cool and dangerous, she assumed. Form-fitting but not uncomfortably revealing. She'd definitely have the warrior nun look down.  


Beatrice most likely noticed her line of thought, for she offered to try it on.

“Do you want to see how it looks on you?”

She took the garment out of Beatrice’s hands and looked her in the eye. “Do you?”

Ava wasn’t sure what she wanted to see or hear, but the slight confusion in Beatrice’s eyes before she averted them was good enough for now. Beatrice liked her, right?  


A few minutes later she was all dressed up, staring at herself in the mirror. Beatrice was standing almost right behind her, also enjoying the view. 

“That’s a look,” Ava thought, but instead of looking at herself, she was more interested in Beatrice’s gaze. 

That was also, a look. 

“Do you think you look nun-tastic enough?”

“Not as nun-tastic as you.” 

Was she flirting? Ava thought to herself. If she was, she could have chosen a less lame way to go about it. It was still a nun she was sloppily flirting with! Those things landed people in Hell, right? Not that she was probably headed towards Heaven anyway, but if Heaven required a visa, this would definitely not help with her application. 

In any case, the golden brown hue in Beatrice’s eyes as she was looking at her made everything — including Hell — seem like a small price to pay. Okay, maybe she was a bit hasty about this Hell thing, looking at all the monsters that surfaced from there, but you get the feeling, right? 

Right now the prize she was looking for could be found here, on this Earth, and not above or below them. Today, she belonged here. 

Ava turned away from the mirror, to face Beatrice again. They would share the same moment they shared after a successful training session, quiet and intimate. But this time, Ava was actively looking for a sign. Her interest had now been piqued, and while cautious, she was also curious. Willing, and wistful. 

“Being here is not bad,” Ava ended up saying, although she was hoping for something much more eloquent. “You know, despite all the nuns and demons and impending doom and everything.” 

Then, for a moment she thought. Being here is not bad, but will she have anywhere to go, once they made sure that no more warrior nuns had to die? That no more beasts would come up from the place some may call Hell in an attempt to pursue her? 

“I’m glad you are here, too,” Beatrice agreed. 

“When you said earlier that I wouldn’t have to be alone…” Saying these things was more than embarrassing. They really did not fit in her mouth, Ava thought. Not necessarily desperate, but. “What happens after this is all done?” 

Ava did not want to go back to a life where nobody wanted her. Where nobody was willing to connect with her. Although she acted selfishly in Cat’s Cradle, the girls all welcomed her with their own special brand of support after some time passed. It was a hard ride, but she finally felt like she was part of a community.

Maybe a community she wanted to run away from at first. But by now, she only wants to make sure that no next warrior nun had to die like this. That no next warrior nun had to sacrifice her life too early. 

“You will still have us.” Beatrice swallowed, before continuing. “You will always have me.”

It was time, she thought. Or at least, on the TV this would be the time — the perfect moment none of them could not run away from. She cupped Beatrice’s face as she would do to her before and pressed a kiss on her lips, trying to ignore the thought that this might ruin the trust they built out between the two of them.

But Beatrice reacted favourably, although she was clearly shocked at first. Soon enough, she kissed back, her nimble fingers tangling into Ava’s dirty blonde hair at the back of her head. Ava pulled her closer by the waist and basked in the sensation of how right everything felt in that moment. 

With JC, everything seemed to happen in a rush, as if they were running out of time. On the other hand, the moments here began to pour backwards, like they were allowed a break before the world would end. It only felt right. Exciting, stimulating, but most of all, right. 

When they finally pulled away from the kiss, she felt like giggling.

“Oops,” she said, shooting a sheepish smile at Beatrice. 

“That was—” Beatrice could not bring herself to finish the thought, which must have been rare in her case.

She was not angry at her, however, or seemed threatened in any way, which Ava jotted down as a victory. No friendship or trust was ruined. … for now, she added in her head. 

“Unexpected? Could you not see that coming, after analyzing me to the core?” 

“Well. I heard something from Mary earlier when she was looking for you, about the boy you were going to elope with.” 

Ava waved her hand and rolled her eyes, also echoing Mary's words. “You know, hormones and all that!” 

“I suppose.” 

As Beatrice did not seem too convinced, she tried to pull her closer again by her chin, placing a light kiss on her lips. 

“He did not make me feel like I belonged,” Ava confessed. “I think I believed I had no other choice. That I should be happy for whatever tiny attention I can get: because who else would give it to me? But I don’t feel like hiding before you. Even if you yell at me for it sometimes.”

“I didn’t really yell,” Beatrice retorted, and smiled into their next kiss. “And even if I was, I wasn’t really yelling at  _ you _ .” 

Beatrice’s fingers were still brushing her hair, gently tugging at her locks. She closed her eyes and wondered if a moment could last until eternity before they’d need to return to reality and much more troublesome, deadly topics. 

Reality had re-entered their lives soon enough, in the form of some footsteps from outside the room. Sharing one last, quick kiss, they separated as if nothing happened, although Ava could not keep herself from grinning. 

The Halo giving her mobility was one thing, but the real prize her second life gave her might as well have been Sister Beatrice. 

She tucked her hair behind her ear as she said to Beatrice.

“Hey, so. Is this going to be our thing, now?” 

**Author's Note:**

> I think Beatrice is a bit easier to give a voice to for me personally when it comes to writing, but I tried my best to portray Ava accurately in this story. I hope it wasn't too hideous.


End file.
